A Shadow Ascendant
by Katrina Kay
Summary: One of the Joker's few surviving victims gets a visit that will plunge her back into a world of madness and violence.
1. Chapter One: Off To A Bad Start

_Disclaimer_: No, I don't own the Nolan-verse Joker or anything to do with him, Batman, or anything related that may appear in this fanfic. Obviously.

_A Shadow Ascendant  
_By Katrina Kay

Chapter One  
Off To A Bad Start

"Would you please tell your mother than I'm fine, Cassidy? Tell her Aunt Claire says she's fine. Actually, put her on the phone, would you? – Yes, I know she's making dinner, just tell her that I need to talk to her – Love you too, pumpkin."

Julia sighed with annoyance as she heard her sister arguing with her niece before Amanda's voice squawked over the phone line. "Hello, Amanda – yes, I know you're busy – I just don't think you should have told Cassidy about what happened. She's only four, and she wouldn't have known if you hadn't – For the last damn time, I'm _fine_, Amanda. It was weeks ago – yes, I've been going to the therapist – well, I'll try and call you sometime next week – tell Cassidy I said happy Halloween – alright, bye."

After she had hung up the phone, Julia took out a microwave dinner and popped it in, watching the tray travel around in slow circles as memories of the events of four weeks ago crowded into her mind...

–

_Oh darling, please believe me, I'll never do you no haa-aarm…_ Julia drummed her fingers on the dusty dashboard in time with the Beatles song impatiently. She was starting to feel too warm inside the car, even though the temperature had recently begun to drop as summer ended and fall began. She had shown up ten minutes late to pick up her friend, Dr. Kayla Brewer, from Gotham's Arkham Asylum, but Kayla still hadn't appeared outside twenty minutes later. She had seen a few police cars show up with sirens blazing and lights flashing but since then, everything had been calm and she was slowly losing patience with her friend for keeping her waiting.

She was starting to doze from the darkness, the heat, and the music when she heard the back door open and close. When she turned around, her face was inches from the barrel of a gun, held by a man whose face was the nightmare of every law officer and ordinary citizen of Gotham.

"Scream, and I'll _sh_oo_t_. Now, toots, I want you to dri_ve_. It's getting a bit…tense around here." The Joker's face cracked into a ghastly grin, stretching his red smeared mouth and scars. An icy fear spread though Julia as she put the car into gear and started driving towards the gate. Just after they made it past the empty security shack, an explosion ripped through the west wing of the asylum, prompting the Joker to laugh manically at the sound

–

Now that she thought about it, a nice glass of something alcoholic would go well with dinner. Julia practically chugged a large glass of chardonnay and poured herself another to keep her hands from shaking while she ate at the table in her tiny kitchen. She shuddered and tried to collect herself, suddenly angry at herself for allowing her memories to get the better of her. _It's all over, and it has been for a while, so get a fucking grip on yourself_, she thought.

She dumped her half-finished dinner in the garbage. Her head was starting to fuzz over pleasantly from the alcohol. A knock on the door startled her and she crept cautiously to the peep hole, only to see a girl in a purple spandex cat suit and matching fluffy cat ears bouncing up and down impatiently outside her door. She threw the door open for her best friend, Tammy, who hugged her briefly before wandering into the living room and throwing herself across the couch.

"Girl, let me tell you, we're gonna have to walk. There is not a _single_ damn taxi out there that isn't busy. I mean, yeah, it's Halloween and all, but Gotham celebrates it every year and every year there are _no_ taxis! Got any good beer?"

Julia rolled her eyes. "Check the fridge. I'm going to put on my costume so we can leave." She left Tammy rifling through the refrigerator and shut the door to her bedroom. She had already laid out her costume, a gold- and black- striped, ridiculously short flapper dress, complete with a gold bead necklace, black fishnets and stilettos, and a black feather boa. She slipped the black feathered headband over her dishwater blond hair before getting to work on her makeup – thick, smoky eyeshadow and plenty of liquid liner as well as blood red lipstick.

When she stepped back out into the living room, Tammy gasped and clapped her hands with glee, still holding the bottle of beer she had selected.

"You look amazing! Let's hit the road, the rave should be starting soon. This is going to be an _awesome_ night!"

Julia double-checked that her door was shut and her dress covered her ass before shutting the door behind them, mentally reminding herself to leave her fears behind. The Joker was back behind bars, after all.

–

She had driven exactly where the Joker had directed, prompted by sharp jabs of the gun to the back of her head. They had ended up at an apartment downtown, close to the heart of Gotham. The street was abandoned, as it was the middle of the business day, but the Joker had still hustled her roughly inside and up the stairs, occasionally slamming her against the walls of the stairwell. Julia tried to protect her face from the scrape of the brick walls but still ended up with bruises on her face and arms. When they reached an unnumbered door on what she thought was the fifth floor – she had lost track as fear and panic drowned out the rational voice in her mind that told her if she survived this, she would need to remember everything – the Joker yanked her head back by the hair so that her eyes met his, and handed her a key after sliding his gun into a pocket of his purple coat.

"Open the door. Quickly, now, wouldn't want to have to blow your pretty little face off – oh, _wait_, yes I _would_!" His snickers filled her ears as she slid the key into the door with shaking hands and went sprawling onto the dusty floor when he shoved her roughly forward and closed and locked the door behind them.

The apartment was practically empty, what she could see of it by the weak light that filtered through the drawn shades; the only furniture in this room was a desk and chair in the corner, surrounded by discarded papers. Three other doors led off to other rooms, one of which she assumed held a weapons stash, as the Joker disappeared and reappeared through its door carrying several larger, serious-looking guns and a few grenades.

He tossed all of these aside to grab Julia once again by the hair and throw her to the ground when she scrambled up to race towards the window. "Now, _n_ow, aren't you going to _be_have?" She didn't answer as she rolled on the floor, whimpering from the headache that had magnified after this latest contact of her head with a hard surface.

"Look at me. LOOK AT ME." His voice went from a clowny, joking tone to a harsh, raspy bark that compelled her eyes to meet his. It was the tone of a murderer, someone who could gut her right now and leave her there to bleed out while he went to have lunch or take a nap without any guilt or horror at his actions. _A psychopath, _she rememberedKayla had stated once when Julia had helped her study for a psychology final, _lacks empathy and acts strongly amoral but is able to appear outwardly normal._

"Noooow, you're going to be_have_ like a good _little_ _h_ostage, or…" he grinned again. "_And_ I'm going to tie you up."

She scooted backwards to try to get away from him but he caught her arm with his hand and pulled her back. "Let GO of me!" she shrieked, only to be struck across the face with his free hand. Julia's head snapped sideways and her vision blurred. The Joker reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

"Well-_uh_, isn't someone a _fighter_?" She struggled as he tape her wrists and ankles together but could not free herself from his iron grip. Julia wondered with a sinking feeling how long she could fight, even this pathetically, before he would simply shoot her. The thought of her impending death sobered her long enough for the Joker to slap a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

He grinned and waggled his fingers at her in a goodbye wave before straightening up to whip a phone out of his pocket and stride into one of the other rooms, slamming the door behind him. Julia lay, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, tears streaming down her cheeks to drop on the filthy floor.

–

The walk to the abandoned factory was not short, but the alcohol the two women had consumed on the way numbed their feet inside their stilettos and warmed their bare skin, exposed to the chilled night air. Normally it would have been suicidally stupid to walk alone in this part of Gotham but it was practically the safest part of the city on Halloween, since most of Gotham's police force was on patrol in this district…and they were both drunk.

"Wooo-hooo!" Tammy howled when she heard the heavy bass beat and saw the flashing light coming from the second floor of one of the dilapidated buildings. "Let's go par-tay, Jules!"

They raced, laughing, across the remaining distance, mindless of the oily puddles they splashed through, and climbed the rusty fire escape and through a broken window into the room of closely crushed bodies.

_Drinking champagne, made by the angel/Who goes by the name of glittering Gabriel/Drinking champagne made all the angels/Tears and pain, but I feel celestial…_Julia slid into the mass and danced to one of her favorite songs, laughing alongside Tammy as they jumped and swayed. This had been exactly what she needed to take her mind off of everything. She was even able to laugh, albeit nervously, when she saw a skinny boy in clown makeup, but reached for another cup of neon blue punch carried on a tray by a girl in orange butterfly wings and a top hat and chugged before turning with a grin back to Tammy.

_Drinking champagne to forget yesterday/'Cause I remember, the way, the way, the way/It ended that day, the day, the day, the day/That I walked away, away, away, away._ Julia could almost believe that everything was normal, everything was fine. So she danced to forget, to recover the self she had been before the Joker…

–

Commissioner Gordon had personally interviewed her afterwards. His eyes wandered over the bruises and cuts splashed across her dirt-streaked face and filled with pity.

"Miss Gates, I know you've been through a terrible ordeal, and I know you probably don't want to have to relive what you've been through, but it is imperative that we question you as soon as possible if we are to have any chance to catch the Joker."

"I already told you, I can't talk to you. He told me not to talk to you. I only remember some of what happened, anyway…"

"I understand that you're concerned for your safety, but let me reassure you, the Gotham Justice Department will keep you safe- "

When she spoke, her voice was bitter. "No offense, Commissioner, but I doubt it. Arkham wasn't able to keep him locked up, so I don't see why you'll do any better this time. If I talk to you, he'll find me and he'll kill me, that's all there is to it."

Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Very well. But if you change your mind, or if for some reason you hear from the Joker, you can contact my office at any time."

"I'll keep that in mind." She felt bad for this tired man, aged by weariness and stress, but not so sorry that she was going to risk her own life to help him catch the Joker. She had managed to make it out of the man's twisted clutches alive and wanted to keep it that way. Julia had lied to the commissioner – she remembered exactly what had happened during every single moment she had been conscious, but it was not a time she wished to revisit.

When she had returned home, she sighed and collapsed on the bed, shaking with nerves…and _anger_. Who were these people, all of these men, to toy with her life? She was just a pawn in their hands, helpless to make decisions for herself – the Joker had taken her hostage but the justice departments of Gotham were trying to use her in their own way as bait…but she wondered if they had really considered what the Joker would do to a snitch. Julia doubted it would be pretty, and Commissioner Gordon would gain only trivial knowledge in exchange for her life. It was not an exchange she was willing to make.

–

It was around 3:30 am when Julia stumbled into her apartment. She danced into the kitchen, singing, "Aa-ah ah…I predict a riot, I predict a riot, I predict a riot. And if there's anybody left in heeeeere, that doesn't want to be out theeeeere…" to herself. It had been a good night - she had even danced with a few relatively good-looking men. She tossed her tattered headband across the room to land in the living room and went into her bedroom to fall face down on the bed.

"A_he_m." At the sound of a voice which was all too familiar to her, Julia rolled over and screamed.

–

_Author's Notes_

A new story! I've been wanting to write a Joker fanfic since I saw The Dark Knight and had a great idea for one this morning, so I cranked out the first chapter. It's kind of confusing with the flashbacks but we should have the full story of Julia's abduction finished in the next chapter, as well as what the Joker's been up to since then, and I'll definitely give some more insight as to Julia's character and identity. I'm not really sure where the story is going yet but I should have a more definite outline soon (plus, it's more fun when the story kind of takes on a life of its own.) Please review and let me know what you think so far!

Cheers,  
Katrina

P.S. Lyrics are from 'Oh Darling' by the Beatles, 'Shampain' by Marina and the Diamonds, and 'I Predict A Riot' by the Kaiser Chiefs.


	2. Chapter Two: The Magician and The Fool

Chapter Two  
The Magician and The Fool

Julia didn't know how long she lay on the floor of the apartment, only that the sunlight that streamed over her shoulders from behind the blinds slowly grew weaker as her limbs grew numb from lack of movement. At first, her mind had raced, trying to come up with some way to escape, but eventually she had realized that she could come up with nothing that gave her the chance she needed. She had no way of reaching the weapons the Joker had dumped in one corner of the room and she could hear nothing from the room into which he had disappeared, which meant she had no way of knowing where her kidnapper was. She thought she could hear muffled voices from the room into which he had disappeared but could not tell if the voices were real or simply the product of head trauma.

By rocking to build up momentum, she was eventually able to flip herself over, but she did not have much time to observe the other side of the room before the Joker reappeared, slipping his phone back into his pocket and walking over to the desk to hang his coat on the back of the chair. He sat down, leaning back to prop his feet on the desk and fold his arms behind his head, sighing with what sounded like contentment.

"Soooo, I see you _fi_nally decided to quiet down. I miiiight even kill you quick_ly_ if you keep up the good be_hav_ior."

Julia mumbled behind the duct tape. With a grin, he hopped up and, flipping her onto her back, ripped the tape off her mouth with a gleeful flourish. "Does someone have something to _aaaaaadd_?"

She held in a shriek at the burning pain when the Joker ripped off the tape and cleared her throat. "You…you're not supposed to kill hostages."

"Well, do I seem like the kind of person that does what he's _supposed_ to do? Hmmm?" He brought his face down inches away from hers and met her gaze with a wide-eyed stare.

"I…suppose not. But…it would be nice if you could, er, make an exception?" Julia trembled, dreading his reaction to her impertinence.

This sent the Joker into peals of laughter that had him doubled over for several minutes before he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "That's a _GOOD _one!" Suddenly his hand flashed out and Julia was sent sprawling across the room to slam against the wall. She felt her wrist snap and let out a moan of pain. He strode across the room and lifted her by the throat to dangle in his strong grip, a deadly serious look now in his shining brown eyes. "I don't _th_ink _you_ should be telling _me _what to do."

She felt her vision begin to fade as she lost consciousness, but was awake enough to feel herself be dropped back onto the floor in a heap and hear the Joker's laugh. "The cavalry's _HEEEEEEEEERE!_"

–

The Joker stepped out the shadowy corner of her bedroom, gun in hand. He looked more worse for the wear since the last time Julia had seen him, which was saying something considering the circumstances under which they had parted on that occasion. The sleeve of his massive purple coat was almost ripped off and his vest was more or less in tatters. Blood was smeared in his hair and dripped steadily from a gash on the side of his forehead and she could see another wound covering most of his thigh that looked like a combination of burn and cut.

"If you scream again," he said in that nasally, high-pitched voice that had haunted her dreams for almost a month, "I'm gonna have to shoot you. You know that, Jules."

She backed away from him, keeping her eyes on him as she searched for a way out of the room. But the Joker was blocking the only door out. "W-what do you w-want?"

"I need some medical attention, and _you're_ going to play doctor, 'kaaaay?"

"_What?_" She could not believe what she had just heard. Did he honestly expect her to _help_ him, after what he had put her through? She eyed his wounds, trying to figure out if she would be able to fight past him in his weakened state, assuming that she could avoid being shot.

"You mean, why should you help me, when I'm clearly injured and too weak to pose a threat? _Don't UNDERESTIMATE me_," he growled at her in that nightmarish voice.

She knew from experience how deceptively strong he was. Julia was not heavy but not light either, yet he had once picked her up singlehandedly and raised her several feet in the air. He smirked as she trembled, mind racing, and she knew that he knew that he didn't even need the gun.

"A-all right. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom."

The Joker clapped his gloved hands together. "Lead the way, Doc."

Julia brushed past him into the hallway and walked quickly to the small bathroom, which felt even more cramped with two bodies inside. Once inside, she knelt to grab the kit from underneath the sink, fighting the voice inside her head that said what she was doing was crazy, arguing with it that she didn't really have a choice if she wanted to stay alive. When she straightened and turned around, the Joker stripped off his coat, vest, and shirt, and when she the amount of blood that has soaked though the latter two layers and now dribbled on her formerly clean bathroom floor, she could see why he had needed someone to stitch him up.

–

By the cavalry, the Joker had meant almost the entire Gotham police force. Julia watched in horror as they issued their ultimatum, demanding that the Joker surrender or they were going to bomb the now-evacuated building. It was then that the Joker had hauled her over to the window, tightly pressed to his chest, one of his guns pressed to the side of her head. Even from five stories up, Julia could see the panic that this revelation sent rippling through the police force; a lone crazed psychopath was one thing, but a hostage situation was something entirely different.

The Joker let loose a peal of laughter as, while the police force were attempting to come to some consensus about what they would do, the Joker pulled a small remote from his pocket with his free hand and pressed a red button. Seconds later, three buildings housing several of Gotham's major businesses exploded. Julia could see the pillars of smoke rising from only a few blocks away.

"It's always so much more _FUN _with an audience!" The Joker snickered from behind Julia. "And you know the bessst part? Those goons won't do a thing while I have _YOU!_"

The new worst part of the situation, Julia realized with an icy feeling, was that she wasn't entirely sure the Joker was right. Sooner or later, and probably sooner, the Gotham justice force was going to realize that by sacrificing her, they might be able to save more lives.

And at the very moment, unbeknownst to either the Joker or Julia, the force's IT members were using software developed by Wayne Industries that used sonar to map out the building in which the Joker was hiding and pinpoint his location. As SWAT members crept up the building's stairs, the police chief switched the megaphone back on to ask for surrender one last time. "This is your final chance, Joker. Give up the girl and surrender, or…"

"Or what?" The Joker chuckled to himself. "I think Gotham's finest have pretty much made clear that I'm going to be walking out of this little rendezvous alive, don't yooou?" he asked Julia as he dragged her back away from the window.

"Please, just let me _go!" _she screamed suddenly. If the Joker was rejecting this last chance, then she was probably going to be caught in the showdown between him and the police. She struggled against his grip but could not even come close to freeing herself, even though she was truly fighting for her life, heedless of the throbbing pain in her injured wrist and her more minor wounds.

Suddenly the door imploded and the room flooded with SWAT members, who instantly trained their weapons on the Joker and shouted at him to freeze. But they were blocked from a clear shot yet again by Julia, whom the Joker was yet again using as a human shield.

"Well, isn't _this_ a pleasant _surprise_!" The soldiers were unnerved by the ghastly smile on the Joker's mangled face. "How did you like my little fireworks display, gents? I gave the commissioner a ring so he wouldn't miss it!"

No one responded, so he gave a mock sigh of disappointment. "If you're all going to be so dreary, maybe my next surprise will cheer you up, hmm? I figure maybe since you're all here, I should invite some friends of my _own_!"

When twenty or so men in clown makeup burst through the door to the room with the weapons, toting shotguns and other firearms, Julia realized that the voices she had heard earlier were not imaginary. _I should have warned them_, she thought as one SWAT member after the other fell with a burst of blood to the floor, only managing to shoot a few of the clowns_. I don't know how, but I should have been able to warn someone_…

Once the police chief lost communication with the SWAT team shortly after hearing one of the men scream into his radio about being surrounded by clowns, what ensued was a truly epic firefight. The Joker dragged himself and Julia out of the building, which was now being consumed by flames from grenades and firebombs thrown by both the police force and the clown army, who were both still dueling somewhere inside almost half an hour after the secondary team had been sent in.

They were almost far enough away that the sirens from the opposite side of the building had faded away when a huge dark shape fell from above to land on the Joker, crushing him to the ground. Julia shrieked and tried to crawl away, though her hands and feet were still bound and the pain in her wrist had increased to an almost unbearably sharp searing, then froze when she realized who had just tackled her captor. Batman dragged the Joker upright before slamming his fist into his face, which threw the Joker soaring into the wall of a nearby building.

"Sorry I'm late, Joker," he rasped, and stalked over to where the Joker lay grinning. "Glad you could make it, Batty. Wouldn't want you to _miss_ the cele_bra_tion." He stood and wiped a smear of blood from his face before lunging at the Batman.

The two began a hand-to-hand battle in which neither, it seemed, had the upper hand. Julia tried to loosen her restraints frantically, desperate to get away while the Joker was occupied. Batman had finally managed to restrain the Joker, after landing a powerful blow which sent the latter in a dazed sprawl, with thick wire bonds from his utility belt by the time the police had finally arrived in the alley. When he saw Commissioner Gordon, one of the first to make it past the fire, Batman nodded but did not stick around to chat, turning with a flourish of his cape and disappearing down an alley while the police now pouring onto the scene were still distracted.

A well-meaning officer tried to help Julia up but knocked against her wrist, eliciting a noise of pain that had three other officers running to her side. _Nice to see that they're so gallant_, she thought through the haze of adrenaline, fear, and exhaustion that clouded her mind._ I wonder if they knew I was in the building they just torched when they set it on fire?_

"Ma'am, an ambulance is on its way…" She ignored the drone of the typical victim speech about how it was all going to be okay and watched as several officers also surrounded the Joker and many more trained their guns on him as an armored prison car was prepared to transport him. The commissioner appeared to be having a heated conversation with the man, although the Joker remained calm, even seemed to be enjoying his effect on Gordon.

The ambulance arrived and Julia was loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled to the back of the van. Simultaneously, the SWAT team loaded the Joker into the back of his transport. Julia's eyes met the gaze of her kidnapper, whose mouth cracked into a smile distorted by the hacked scars on his face as he winked at her before disappearing into the back of the truck.

–

"Try anything with a needle or those scissors, and it'll be the _last_ thing you do, got it, Jules?" His eyes, deadly serious, did not leave hers until he was sure she understood. She nodded her assent, and he turned his back to prop his hands against the bathroom door, blocking her exist while also exposing his worst injury. A half-inch deep slash was carved from his right shoulder blade down almost to his left hip, and was oozing blood at a rate that made Julia wonder why he had waited for her to arrive home rather than threatened a more skilled medical professional into treating him. It dissected a large, intricate tattoo in black ink which she could not see clearly since it was covered in bloody smears.

"Holy _shit_."

He snickered quietly at her exclamation. "Don't worry, I won't kill you if your stitches aren't perfect. Your mother was a nurse, Jules, isn't that right? I'm _s_ure you inherited some of her _skills_."

Another wave of shock went through her. "How do you know about my _mother_? And wait a second, how do you know my _name_?"

The Joker turned to look at her, hands still braced on the door. "Look, I _really_ haven't got all night here, so I'll cut you a _d_eal: you stitch, _I _bitch."

Like she could be distracted from the gore that was right in front of her. "S-sounds good." She rinsed a washcloth in cool water and hydrogen peroxide but hesitated right above the wound. "Just so we're clear, this is probably going to hurt."

"More than getting this papercut in the first place?"

He was right, she had to admit. "Okay, here goes. Hold still." The hydrogen peroxide instantly began to sizzle as it touched the wound, and she concentrated more on clearing the blood from the rest of his back before focusing on the wound itself. Years of first aid training from her mother and various middle and high school classes took over, and she found herself focusing solely on the wound, forgetting for the time being – as much as was possible, anyway – the patient. Julia quickly realized that the bleeding was not going to stop unless she could stitch up the wound…but she could only stitch so fast, and he would lose too much blood through the rest of the wound.

"I need you to hold this cloth on the bottom half, okay? It's bleeding too much." She handed him a second water-dampened cloth when he reached his left hand back, giving her a warning glance as he did so.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Her hands were shaking as she threaded a needle with thick black thread from the kit. Julia closed her eyes and focused. "Okay…" she breathed, unaware of the grimacing smirk that had appeared on the Joker's face at her attempts to calm herself.

"Need a _pep_ talk, sweetheart? 'Cause I'm sure I can come up with somethi-"

"Hold still." Never in a million years would she have thought she had the balls to interrupt the Joker, and even he seemed to be stunned into silence at her commanding tone. Not waiting any longer, she pierced his back and began to stitch him up.

–

_Author's Notes_

I already had this chapter planned out when I wrote chapter one and I'm pleased to say it turned out pretty close to what I had planned, although the actual confrontation between the Joker and the Gotham police force was a bit tough to write; I knew that the Joker was going to kidnap Julia but had to think about what would happen between then and when he was captured. Then again, it seems like the Joker doesn't really mind random acts of violence against the city of Gotham. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story so far; please review and tell me what you think!

Cheers,  
Katrina


	3. Chapter Three: Catch and Release

Chapter Three  
Catch and Release

At the hospital, Julia was surrounded by hospital staff and government officials, the latter of whom were either barking orders into their cell phones or trying to question her. Eventually, the nurses managed to move her through the press of bodies into an examination room, where only one nurse, a kindly-looking older woman, remained with her as the rest of them left to deal with the officials and press or to return to their other duties. Her left wrist was checked and declared sprained; her cuts were cleaned and bandaged where necessary, and her wrist was put in a Velcro brace. The nurse eyed the bruises on her neck in the shape of the Joker's hands and shook her head before checking to make sure no lasting damage to her windpipe or neck had been done.

Once Julia had finished giving the nurse her medical history and filled out the paperwork, the woman turned to go, but stopped and patted her leg. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you, dear. I'm sure the police will get everything sorted out, don't you worry."

Julia smiled bleakly and the nurse left. _Wish I was as confident as you are, lady_. She sighed and slowly lay back on the uncomfortable bed, feeling the last of the adrenaline leave her to be replaced by complete weariness. She just wanted to sleep, and yet every time she closed her eyes, the events of the past hours flashed through her mind, and she kept hearing that laughter…

The sound of the door opening jolted her awake and upright, and she winced at the effect of the sudden movement on her sore body. As Commissioner Gordon entered the room, she noticed that there was no longer a mob of reporters in the hallway.

He held out his hand and they shook before he turned to pull up the chair beside the bed and sit down. "Miss Gates, I'm Police Commissioner Gordon. I know you've been through a terrible ordeal…"

–

She had managed to sew about seven stitches before the Joker spoke.

"So I _su_pp_ose_ you want to hear how I _so _magically know _every_ little detail of your life? We_ll_, it's not difficult to find if you know where to look." He snickered, then winced as Julia pulled on a section of his skin to bring the edges closer together.

"And you do, then, I'm assuming?" She was surprised how easy it was to remain calm in such a bizarre and horrifying situation. _Then again, at least I'm not the one bleeding this time_, she thought grimly.

"Arkham has quite an advanced computer system, Jules…all I had to do was, er, _convince_ one of the docs to give me the password and _voila_, I had access to police records, drivers licenses, Social Security numbers…it was a _gold mine_, let me tell you!"

He paused for a moment. "I know just about _everything_ there is to know about you, Julia Marie Gates…except your favorite color." The Joker shook with laughter at his own joke.

"If you don't hold still, I might tear your skin, so p-please stop moving…and it's purple, by the way."

"Reaaaaally? What a _coincidence_, it's mine too! I knew I made a good choice when I hitched a ride with you! Then again, you _were_ the driver in Arkham's lot, and I didn't really have the time to hotwire a car."

"Well, I guess that answers the _why_, then." She had stitched up almost a third of the Joker's wound by now and stopped to rest, leaning back against the sink counter. She had been using one hand to sew and one to hold the skin together, and now the repetitive moment had sent a dull, throbbing pain through her left wrist. "I need to stop for a minute, my wrist hurts."

"I don't remember including _rest breaks_ in this deal, toots. I don't know if you've _noticed_, but I've lost a lot of blood." His voice was blackly serious again.

But a flare of irrational, potentially masochistic anger shot through her. _It's probably four in the morning, and here I am fucking saving the life of the man who beat the shit out of me and almost killed me, and he's complaining that I need a break!_ "Look, the bleeding's slowed down, you're not going to bleed out, and my wrist fucking hurts from you smashing it into a _wall_, so just _give_ me a minute."

He whipped around, left hand still clutching the cloth to the open part of the gash, to glare at her with a look that would make even the most fearless person cower as he leaned over her, his free hand resting on the mirror. And cower she did, inwardly cursing herself as she shrank backwards, tightening her grip on the needle whose thread was still connected to the Joker.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I j-just don't want to fuck it up and…" She trailed off, her whole body shaking in fear, as he stared at her in stony silence.

"Glad to hear that you're so _concerned_, Jules, but _don't_ make me _angry_ at you…trust me, that isn't something you want to _see_," he rasped quietly. A tense silence settled in the room.

"You're frightening me," she whispered after what seemed like minutes had passed.

"Good. Back to work." And he turned around again, the hellish look gone from his eyes as rapidly as she had provoked its appearance.

Julia rolled her wrist a few times to stretch the sore muscles and continued her task.

–

A day later, Julia was released from the hospital. A small group of Gotham police officers herded her past the horde of paparazzi eager for the scoop on her experiences as the Joker's hostage into a car. After they had driven past the crush of bodies, it was only a short drive to her apartment building. She was escorted upstairs and told that an officer would remain on duty in the building for at least a few weeks to repel reporters and keep an eye on her.

As the door slid shut behind her, she let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding and made her way to her bedroom. It seemed like so long since she had been home, though it had only been a couple of days since she had woken up, watched the news, gone to work, and headed to Arkham to pick up Kayla.

Her hair felt matted with grime, though she had tried her best to wash it at the hospital, and she was eager to get out of the scrub-like pajamas they had given her to wear instead of her jeans and henley, which she hoped they burned. Julia stripped off the outfit and dug through her dresser until she found a pair of yoga pants and a white v-neck tee. She moved toward the bathroom but froze when she caught sight of her reflection in her floor-length mirror.

There had been no mirrors in the hospital and she had thought at the time that she didn't really want to see what she looked like…and now the damage confronted her as she stood naked with all her wounds on display. Surprisingly her face had suffered little damage beyond a nasty-looking bruise on her cheekbone and a moderately-serious gash on the side of her forehead near her hairline. The worst, however, was her neck. Where the Joker's hand had lifted her were deep purple, almost black, finger marks, surrounding her neck like a gruesome necklace. _Must be why it hurts so much to swallow_, she thought blankly, her mind going numb.

The realization of her close brush with death hit Julia like a sucker punch to the gut, and she crumpled to the floor, naked and sobbing as the shock wore off and relief flooded in.

When she woke up, darkness had crept over the city. Sitting up, she glanced at the clock and found she had been asleep for nearly six hours.

One long, brutally hot shower and a change of clothes later, she felt a bit better. And then the phone rang and her caller ID's robotic voice informed her that she had a call from BREWER, KAYLA.

"Hello?"

"Oh my god, you're there! Julia, I'm so glad you're all right!"

"I just got released from the hospital today."

"You probably haven't had a chance to watch the news or read the paper yet…it was total chaos, Jules. He killed two guards here at Arkham and tasered a third – we have no idea how or where he got the damn taser but he did. And no one found the bodies until almost ten minutes later. Oh, Jules, I'm sure you don't want to hear this right now…"

"You're right, Kayla. Look, why don't we meet for lunch in a few days? I'm really tired, I should probably get some rest."

"Of course! Look, you take your time and I'll give you a call sometime next week, okay? I'm just so glad you're all right!"

" 'Kay, sounds good. Thanks for calling."

As she pressed the OFF button on her cell phone, Julia began to hunt for the container of heavy-duty painkillers with which the hospital had supplied her.

It wasn't until she woke up screaming hours later and spent another hour lying awake, wide-eyed and trembling, that she considered that taking a double dose, which she had been warned would cause drowsiness and lethargy, might not be such a bad idea.

–

It seemed like forever and yet only a few minutes before Julia carefully knotted the thread and cut off the excess. Although the cut itself was jagged, her stitching was, she had to admit, pretty damn good.

"Okay, I'm done with the stitches. It's still bleeding a bit so I probably shouldn't cover it up with gauze yet, it would just stick."

The Joker turned to look over his shoulder in the mirror. "We-elll, not _bad_. You get a gold star, Jules!" And he flashed a smile at her that probably would have been more effective had his face been less butchered…_and maybe if he wasn't a deranged killer_, she thought.

She turned to the sink to wash the blood off her hands and caught sight of her own reflection. Her eye makeup had smudged into faded black rings around her eyes, which looked dull and bloodshot after a night of alcohol and a lack of sleep. Her hair hung in limp waves, falling out of the loose ponytail she had thrown it into at some point. She splashed water on her face and tried to rub some of the makeup off with a towel but only succeeded in ruining another of her powder-blue towels.

Her eyes caught the Joker's in the mirror as he watched her try to regain her composure and his grin reappeared with what appeared to be a look of genuine mirth. "So now what?"

He patted her shoulder reassuringly, which sent a cold feeling through her. "Don't worry, toots. I don't plan on _offing _you, if _t_hat's what's making you so _serious_. After all, ya did patch me up and all."

A growl echoed through the bathroom, which Julia realized after a moment had come from her own stomach. "Um, well, if you're not going to k-kill me, can I go get something to eat? We can wait in the kitchen…if that's okay with you."

A snicker escaped him before grabbed his clothes in one hand and reached inside his coat for his gun with the other. "Lead the way."

Once in the kitchen, he plopped down into one of her fifties-diner-style chairs at the small table, avoiding resting his bare, injured back on the chair while still managing to look completely at ease. He dropped his clothes in a heap at his feet and used his free hand to shove an errant lock of greenish-blond hair away from his face. Julia dug through her cupboards, searching for something that actually looked appetizing. She finally settled on a box of macaroni and cheese and grabbed the rest of the ingredients, setting a pot of water to boil on the stove before turning to lean against the counter, massaging her recently-healed wrist absentmindedly.

It was strange to see a man sitting at her kitchen table. She dated occasionally but hadn't ever lived with anyone and very rarely let men spend the night at her apartment – she usually stayed at theirs instead. And the sight of the Joker sitting there, looking as casual as if it was something he did every day, was stranger by tenfold. It was when her eyes wandered to his chest, taut and well-muscled, although riddled by scars, that Julia decided she needed a drink. She turned to kneel and grab a bottle of whiskey from under the sink, hesitating before grabbing two shot glasses from a cupboard.

The Joker raised a brow when she plopped one glass, full to the brim, in front of him and quickly downed the other before pouring herself another. "Trying to get me _drunk_ so you can call the coppers, hmm?"

"If you get drunk from a shot, even after all the blood you've lost, you _deserve_ to get caught by the police." The alcohol rushed back into her system, its effects back from the hiatus that the Joker's sudden arrival had scared into her, as she downed the second shot.

"Geez, are you _upset_ or something? I can't imagine _w_hy…you're going to be drunk if you keep drinking _that_ _qu_ick_ly_," he said with a smirk, gleefully observing the effect his presence had had on her.

"Fuck, I _wish_ I was drunk right now," she said as she turned to stir the water and dump in the macaroni. "My kidnapper, a known killer, is sitting at my kitchen table after I just finished stitching up his wounds. I've spent weeks in therapy trying to forget what happened when he took me hostage and beat the shit out of me, why would I be _upset_, especially since he's probably going to take his gun and _shoot me_ in the face any minute?"

The Joker said nothing, just grinned at her until she had finished her rant and downed another shot. She plopped the bottle on the table and sat heavily in the other chair, all sense of self-preservation slowly being annihilated by the alcohol. Or perhaps it was just that she was tired – tired of constantly fearing for her life and safety. If he was going to kill her, he would kill her, she decided, and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it. A thought that should have been horrifyingly frightening to her…but she was tired of caring, so it was somewhat liberating instead.

"Soooo. You're kind of lucky I got back here when I did, y'know. I almost decided to stay with Tammy instead of coming back here."

"I'm sure _you_ wish you had, Jules. But I've been keeping tabs on you, and I, uh, _happened_ to be in the area of your little Halloween party when my plans were, ah, complicated a bit and I had to make a hasty exit. _I know where you liiiiive_," he said in a mock spooky voice with a waggle of his fingers. "So I just hid here until you showed up!"

She stood up to drain the macaroni and add the sauce, milk, and butter, before sitting back down with a large bowl of the finished dish. Julia hadn't realized how hungry she really was, but when she caught the look on the Joker's face, she paused. It seemed oddly incongruous that he would have such a hungry look…it made him seem more ordinary, somehow. She shoved the bowl, untouched, across the table to him and got herself another.

A flicker of disbelief crossed his face that she barely saw, instantly replaced by his typical wide smile and inscrutable gaze that revealed nothing. And they sat, Julia and the Joker, at Julia's kitchen table, eating macaroni and cheese.

–

_Author's Notes_

By the way, if anyone's wondering, I haven't decided what the Joker's tattoo is yet – it should be revealed in the next chapter or the one after, though (but feel free to PM me if you find one you think would be good!) Not much of the back story left, just Julia's visit with her friend Dr. Brewer and perhaps a peek at one of Julia's therapy sessions. Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far - I can always use feedback! :)

Cheers,  
Katrina


	4. Chapter Four: Of Gauze and Guns

Chapter Four  
Of Gauze and Guns

Julia had stayed in her apartment, avoiding work and reporters and the world, for a week, watching TV but only viewing news footage about what had happened once. They showed a very unflattering picture of her taken about two years before and mentioned briefly that she had survived and was recuperating. The rest of the footage had dealt with the Joker's escape and the mayhem in Gotham afterwards, which she half-watched but mostly ignored. _I know more than enough about what happened, thank you_. At least she didn't have to go into work; her boss had called and given her three weeks paid leave and told her to call if she needed more time – he was a pretty good guy anyway, but she was still surprised at the amount of time he was giving her.

Nightmares continued to plague her sleep but she assumed they would be around for quite a while. The worst part was that it was never the same dream twice; it seemed as if her imagination also wanted to punish her for some reason. But the laughter, that never changed…it was present in every single dream, starting quietly and then building until its malicious glee echoed through every corner of her mind and sent her screaming back into consciousness, tears streaming down her cheeks as her chest heaved.

At the end of the week, she checked the weather and was relieved to see that the temperature had dropped enough that she could wear a turtleneck without looking too conspicuous – _although, _she thought_, not as conspicuous as if I wore this lovely pattern of fingerprint bruises for all the world to see_._ Bet the reporters would _love_ that_…She chose a plain grey turtleneck, khaki skinny cords, and her favorite pair of brown leather boots, which she secretly called her ass-kicking boots. It took her a while to cover the marks on her face with makeup, but as she doubled-checked her reflection, she could barely see the bruise and the cuts which, although still noticeable up close, were mostly concealed. Julia grabbed her coat and purse and the scrap of paper on which she had written the address of the therapist and the time of her appointment and locked the door behind her.

Only a few bored-looking men and women with cameras were still lurking outside when she left the apartment building but they quickly perked up when they realized who she was. A microphone bearing the GNN logo was shoved in her face and bright lights shone right into her eyes from several cameras. "What does it feel like to have survived being in the clutches of the Joker, Gotham's top villain? Julia Gates, do you care to comment on whether or not the Joker's accomplices acted of their own free will? Miss Gates, do you have anything to say…"

She stopped and raised her hand for silence. "Look, I really don't want to talk about it, okay? So here's my statement: it was awful, I was lucky to survive, and I'm glad it's over."

The reporters looked a bit put out at the blandness of her response before the babble of questions picked up again. But she had given them her response, and focused on hailing a cab.

–

When her phone rang, Julia nearly inhaled a macaroni noodle and coughed violently, slapping her chest a few times to dislodge the noodle as she looked wide-eyed at the phone. The Joker continued to munch on his food but watched her with his serious look.

"A_he_m…I should probably answer that. It's Tammy, I can tell by the ringtone." The raspy-sweet voice of Metric's singer crooning, _Hello again, friend of a friend…I'll_ _send you my love on a wire, lift you up, every time, everyone _filled her apartment from where her phone sat in her bedroom.

"I don't _think_ so, doll. Let it go to voicemail, hmmm?"

"I hate to break it to you, but ever since a little incident a few weeks ago, my friends tend to freak out and call the _police_ when I don't answer my phone. Trust me, it's happened twice already when I forgot my phone at work."

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before the Joker stood up and motioned at her with the hand that held his gun to do the same. "After you, then. But I would, ah, choose your words_ carefully_ if I were you."

Julia stood and walked quickly past him back into her room to grab the phone and flip it open with a sigh. Tammy's drunken squawk was loud enough that she was sure the Joker, standing as close as he was to her, could hear every word.

"Juuuuules, oh my _gawd_, I almost fuurrgot to _call _you!"

Instinctively, Julia grinned at her friend's ridiculously cheerful voice. It made her feel better, despite her current predicament, to hear a friendly voice, and Tammy had always made Julia laugh at her drunken antics.

"Hi, Tammy. Had a bit more to drink?"

"Me? _You_ sound like you've had a few more yourself, chickadee! But _anyway_, I just called to make sure you made it home okay…dinnt get kidnapped er anythin'."

"Yes, well, thanks Tammy, but I'm fine. I should probably go, though." Her eyes met the Joker's in the dimly lit room. He had waved the gun in a motion to hurry up, clearly annoyed.

"I think you should try and _cut_ your little _chat_ short, don't _you_?"

Although he had not spoken loudly, Tammy had apparently heard his voice as she shrieked, "Oh _shit_, why didn't you _say_ anything if you have a _guy_ over? Was I 'nterrupting? _Gawd_, you should have _said_ something."

The grin that had been somewhat deflated by the Joker's gestures with the gun quavered as Julia fought back laughter. She barely managed to choke out an assurance that she would call Tammy soon and turn off the phone before a snort escaped her and she began to shake with laughter. It was as if the alcohol and the suppression of too much emotion had made her reckless – here she was laughing as a man pointed a gun at her, probably preparing to pull the trigger – but she could not have stopped if she tried; it was as if any shred of composure left in her had been removed. She wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes as she quieted for a moment, but another glance at the look on the Joker's face, which on anyone else might have been called bewilderment, and the laughter returned.

"Oh lord, she thought you…she's such a fucking idiot…I'm sorry, it's just…it's been a fucking hard night." As her laughter subsided, she realized that the Joker was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and something unfathomable.

Once her laughter had died, the silence that fell as he continued to stare at her made her feel more awkward the longer it lasted. Finally, she could stand it no longer and cleared her throat. "I, er, could probably put some gauze on your back now." She did not wait for his reply, but simply walked past him quickly into the bathroom, her eyes avoiding his.

The panic that Tammy's call and the alcohol had suppressed rose like bile in her throat. While she rifled through the first aid kit for non-stick gauze and tape, she realized that she had just _laughed_ in the Joker's face. Not only that, she suddenly thought, she was almost done patching him up, and what would ensue would probably result in her death – couldn't leave the witness alive to snitch, after all, despite the fact that she had survived as a witness in his clutches once before. But if she refused to finish, he was clearly in good enough shape to leave already…

When she looked up from the counter, she shrieked at the sight of the Joker standing, blood-splattered and shirtless, right behind her.

–

Dr. Sherman's office sat opposite of one of Gotham's few parks, in the heart of the city. From the window in the waiting room, Julia could see children playing soccer on the wilted brown grass, bundled in scarves and hats. The waiting room itself was nothing special, somewhat dusty and full of outdated magazines and sad-looking plants like any doctor's or dentist's office. She ignored its dull distractions in favor of watching the children until she was called into an equally nonthreatening office, full of well-stocked bookcases and an overstuffed olive-colored couch. Thankfully, no motivational posters graced the walls.

Dr. Sherman was a short, grey-haired woman, rather pudgy around the middle but grandmotherly in appearance; her fuzzy pink sweater and grey knee-length skirt, paired with sensible black shoes and tan hose were nothing out of the ordinary. She stood to shake Julia's hand firmly before gesturing to the couch and settling herself in a leather swivel chair on the other side of the small glass coffee table.

"Julia Gates, I'm Dr. Sheila Sherman. Commissioner Gordon gave me the information on your situation, and he'd like you to come and see me for a few sessions. I'd suggest we start with once a week for a month, at your convenience, and then see where we are after that."

Julia was surprised by the woman's straightforward attitude. The only other psychologists or therapists she had previously interacted with had been pompous and patronizing – but then again, she had been younger and they had been men. "That sounds fine."

"Like I said, Commissioner Gordon has told me the basics of your experience, and I'm sure you don't want to go through all the details again. I may ask you some questions that are going to make you uncomfortable, ones you might not want to answer, but that's fine – just know that what you say in this room is confidential. I'm not sure if the Commissioner has spoken to you about me, but I'm going to let you know that my methods are a bit unconventional. I might skip around a bit, start in the middle then go back to the beginning, that kind of thing."

Julia nodded, suddenly anxious as flashes of her kidnapping went through her mind.

"Okay, then, here we go. Julia, have you been experiencing any symptoms of stress, since your kidnapping? Any nightmares, panic attacks, that kind of thing?"

Julia swallowed drily, only able to speak in a whisper. "Yes."

"And in these nightmares, what do you see, what do you feel?"

"I feel…scared. I don't want to die. I see…I see the Joker coming towards me, to kill me, and I can't do anything."

"So you feel powerless."

"Yes."

–

It was like one of the nightmares she had described to Dr. Sherman. They had stopped a few weeks ago, yet here the same sudden appearance of her tormentor, gun in hand, coming to kill her. The brevity of minutes ago was forgotten, the shared drinks meaningless as they had ever been. She spun and literally leapt away from him to fall hard into her bathtub, smashing her tailbone hard enough to make her yelp. Her heart threatened to stop and beat out of her chest at the same time, and she gasped each breath, trying to calm down.

"Did I, er, _scare_ you?" The Joker grinned down at her, thrilled to see the power balance restored.

She couldn't speak, her breath trapped in a giant bubble in her chest. Julia started to panic, remembering shadowy dreams of hands gripping her throat and a knife glinting in some sourceless light. After a moment, the Joker's grin faded slightly, but curiosity replaced mirth. He watched her like she was a fascinating zoo animal or painting, rather than a frightened young woman dressed in a flapper costume having a panic attack.

Julia slowly pulled herself up to sit on the closed toilet and put her head between her knees, closing her eyes and just reveling in the silence. Then the bubble burst, and she could breathe again, and she gasped air into her starved lungs.

"When you sneak up on me in the same way I've been fucking having _nightmares _about for _weeks_, yes, you scared me. Bravo. Good job."

Her legs, thankfully, did not buckle under her as she stood up and grabbed the gauze and tape from the counter. The Joker raised an eyebrow at her. "You're a wreck, Jules. I mean, one minute you're laughing at a man with a _gun_, the next minute _lecturing_ like you're his mother or something. And this whole helpless thing, it doesn't really _suit _you, ya know. Especially when you're supposed to be _fixing_ me up."

He nudged her shoulder with the gun before turning back around, keeping his head turned to watch her as she placed the gauze carefully onto his back and then secured it loosely with the tape. Julia was mute again, trying to resign herself to death by bullet, which would probably be her fate sometime in the next few minutes.

And then she had finished, and there was no reason to keep her alive. She closed her eyes, ignoring whatever it was the Joker said to her as she did so – probably another pompous comment – and waited.

When she realized that no bullet had torn through her head yet, she cracked open one eye to see the Joker fully clothed again and watching her with that same curious look. "Wh_aaaa_t are you _doing_?" he asked, as if she was the crazy one.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?"

He laughed at her, understanding exactly what she meant and choosing to ridicule her anyway. He moved towards her, pinning her against the sink to lean until her head touched the cold glass of the mirror, reaching his arm so that the gun pressed into the swell of her hip, still chuckling softly. "A good _qu_est_ion_.You patched me up good and _pro_per, Jules. I figure I owe ya. But I don't _like to owe people_." His darkly serious voice was back, and now, with the gun pressed to her side, she began to shake and tears swelled in her eyes as the shadow fell over his eyes once more.

"I-I-" Julia tried to speak, say anything in defense of her life, but the Joker placed a gloved finger across her lips, hushing her. His eyes held hers as he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb before smiling widely. "But ya know what, Jules? I _like _you. You're _weird_. Sooo, I think I'll let you live…" He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "…for now."

Before she could fully process what he had said, he was across the room, studying her from the doorway as she let out the breath she did not know she had been holding. "Re_mem_ber, doll, tell anyone I was here, and I'll come back and slit your _thr_oat." He blew her a kiss, and disappeared into the hallway.

Julia sat back into the sink, ignoring the faucet jabbing into her back, and wondering in a daze what lucky stars she should thank that the Joker _liked_ her. She shuddered to think how he would have treated her if he had decided he didn't like her, and in what condition her body would have been found after he made that dislike clear. Resting her head in her hands, she scolded herself for letting the alcohol and her anger take away her control enough to provoke him…and that _phone_ call, what had she been thinking, laughing in his face like that?

This time, when she went to stand, her legs did buckle under her, and she dragged herself the long way to her bedroom, pulling a blanket to the floor and falling into a deep, heavy sleep. She didn't notice the Joker creep into her bedroom, consider the gun still in his hand, and place it into one of his deep pockets. He stood above her, studying her tear- and makeup-streaked face, and wondered for a moment, with another unfathomable grin on his deformed face, before turning to leave.

–

_Author's Notes_

I kind of ran out of ideas for a bit with this story – or rather, couldn't come up with the ideas to get to the cool scenes I plan to write that will hopefully happen later. Writers' block + finals = no updates :( But hopefully this chapter turned out okay, since I had most of it written right after the third one. I'm trying to keep the Joker in character as much as I can within the bounds of the story, but I haven't seen the movie in forever. I lied about the tattoo thing being in this or the next chapter – I think I'll save that for later :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please read and review so I stay motivated to update!

Cheers,  
Katrina


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